Bloody Blood Drive
by Tokkalover
Summary: It's time for the semi-annual blood drive at Hetalia High School, and Alfred is filled with anticipation. Arthur is not as enthused.   High School AU, Human Names used. US/UK, tiny smidge of Ger/Ita


**Bloody Blood Drive…**

**A/N: So today was the blood drive at our school, and in yesterday's anticipation I thought it would be entertaining to put the Hetalia characters in this situation. And who better than America and England?**

It was Wednesday, and Hetalia High School buzzed with anticipation. What made this particular Wednesday so exciting? It was the Blood drive happening all day long. Students would be ushered out of class, have their blood taken, and then return; slightly less intact than when they departed. It was simple! At least, that's how Alfred F. Jones viewed this curious event.

When the enthusiastic nurse had visited his second period world history class the day before and given a presentation about the Red Cross's dire need for blood, Alfred had jumped at the idea. More specifically, he had been enthused by her promise of "You could be a hero!" Alfred had always idolized all of the marvel heroes, harboring a not-so-secret longing to achieve hero status himself. However, in his small and relatively crime-free city, there were limited opportunities to jump into rivers and save drowning children or rescue pets from burning buildings. Giving blood would be the perfect way to prove that he could be a just as much as a hero as, say, Captain America. Getting out of class for an hour might not be so bad, either. When the nurse had finished with her speech, Alfred had made a point to be the first to stand up from his seat next to his friend Arthur, flash a grin to the classroom, stride over to the signup sheet, and proudly scribble down his name, middle initial and all. Without hesitation, he neatly wrote in "Arthur Kirkland" in the time slot adjacent to his own.

When ten A.M. rolled around on Wednesday morning, the blood drive was in full swing. Several students had already been called from class, though none had returned yet. When a uniform-clad volunteer finally appeared in the doorway and called "Alfred F. Jones and Arthur Kirkland?" the former nearly knocked over his desk in an attempt to stand up as quickly as possible. Arthur, however, just cocked a bushy eyebrow at his enthusiastic friend.

"I don't recall signing up for this." He stated disapprovingly, though he stood up from his seat and gathered his books anyway.

Alfred seized his friend's wrist and let him out the door. "Come on Artie! We're gonna be heroes!" He proceeded to half lead; half drag Arthur down the hall towards the gym where the drive was located. As they neared the double doors, it became apparent that many of their friends were also participating.

Francis Bonnefoy passed them in the hallway, though he didn't seem to notice, as he was busy cradling his bandaged arm and mumbling "Those inconsiderate jerks! How _dare_ they mar this perfect skin?"

At the sight of Francis's arm, Alfred's pace slowed considerably and his grip on Arthur's wrist tightened ever so slightly. "Haha, don't worry about that, Art. We're almost there!" He exclaimed.

Before Arthur could remind Alfred that in fact he hadn't been concerned with anything in the first place, the two froze in their tracks as a shrill shriek was heard from beyond the gym doors. A moment later they burst open, revealing the source. Ludwig Bellschmidt, the student body president, walked out into the hallway carrying a swooning Feliciano Vargas in his muscular arms. The smaller boy was quite pale, his eyelids fluttering rapidly over his large brown eyes.

"Ludwig, I'm dying! I can't breathe! I can't see! I can't talk! It hurts! Is heaven a nice place, Ludwig? Don't let me die! LUDWIG, I CAN'T FEEL MY LIVER! Oh, _Mio Dio, _It's all over for me! Tell Lovino and Grandpa I love them! Goodbye, Ludwig..._Ciao_…Am I dead yet?"

"_Nein_, Feliciano. You aren't dying. Stop wiggling or I'll put you down." Ludwig gave Arthur and Alfred an embarrassed and apologetic glance as he carried his dramatic friend past them and down the hallway.

With a nervous laugh, Alfred turned to Arthur and said in a slightly shaky voice "That Vargas kid is crazy, huh? It's okay, though. I'm sure theres nothing to worry about. You shouldn't be scared, really."

Arthur let out an impatient huff. "I'm _not _scared, Alfred. What in the world makes you think I am?"

"Dude, you're shaking like a leaf! It's totally wimpy!" Alfred motioned to where his hand met Arthur's wrist. Indeed, someone was shaking.

"That's a load of bollocks! You're the-" Arthur began to tell his friend that it was he who was shaking, but stopped when he saw the look in his vibrant blue eyes. The taller boy was clearly terrified, yet he still seemed determined to go through with this. With a defeated sigh, Arthur pulled Alfred through the gym doors, grabbed paperwork from a pile on the desk, pried Alfred's clammy hand from his wrist and sat both of them in a line of chairs along the wall.

"You're right, Alfred.", He stated matter-of-factly as he handed Alfred a form and a pen. "Here, fill this out. There's probably nothing to worry about. I'll go first. Would you mind staying with me and holding my stuff?"

"That's a great idea, Artie! You can't be scared if I'm there! I'm a hero, after all." The "hero's" arm shook as he filled out the forms, causing his handwriting to appear even more messy than usual, but if he noticed it, he didn't acknowledge it.

Arthur filled out his papers quickly and sat quietly, waiting for his friend to finish. Bored, he glanced to the seat to his right where Ludwig's platinum haired brother Gilbert was snickering quietly as he filled out his form. Arthur surreptitiously peeked at the paper, curious.

**Name: Gilbert Bellschmidt.**

**Age: 17**

**Sex: Often. **

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Bloody Wanker." He muttered under his breath. A sweaty hand suddenly seized his left arm. It was Alfred. "What was that about blood?" his eyes were wide with sudden, almost comical look of panic.

"Nothing, Nothing. Let's go."

When Arthur had been situated into one of the chairs and Alfred had pulled up a chair beside him, the nurse approached them. She looked skeptically at Alfred, who gave a shaky grin and explained "He's terrified. I'm here for moral support." He then focused his attention on the pale skin of Arthur's outstretched arm. The nurse tightened the tourniquet around his bicep, and then used a cotton ball to disinfect his arm. Alfred watched all of this with an unusual highly focused expression. However, when the nurse brought out the needle and approached Arthur with it, Alfred snapped.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop! Dude, that needle's huge!" His eyes snapped from Arthur to the needle to the nurse and back again. "Art, you sure you wanna do this? I mean…you hate needles and b-bl-stuff. Besides, I won't judge if you change your mind. Let's just go, drive to McDonald's, and we'll get some hamburgers. Doesn't that sound nice? Let's-" The babbling blonde fell silent. Arthur had taken Alfred's trembling hand in his free one, and the British boy's face had turned a gentle shade of pink. As Alfred battled his sudden loss for words, Arthur avoided eye contact with the confused nurse, furrowed his eyebrows and nodded.

The rest of the blood taking process went fairly smoothly, as the nurse had been wise enough to use a towel to hide the blood filled tube from a certain distressed student. It may not have mattered anyway, as he was busy staring incredulously at the hand that now was intertwined with his own.

When the bag of blood was filled, the nurse announced "Okay, I'm going to take out the needle now." She quickly pulled the needle out and covered the puncture site with a cotton ball, then turned away to put away the equipment.

Arthur awkwardly squeezed Alfred's hand. "See? That wasn't bad." He ventured to make eye contact, but what he saw wasn't what he expected.

Alfred was white as a sheet, his spectacled eyes impossibly wide and focused on Arthur's outstretched arm.

"Alfred? What…." Arthur slowly followed his friend's gaze and realized the problem. The cotton ball had fallen away, and a bright red trickle of blood streamed down his arm. "Oh, bugger." His gaze shot back to Alfred, who had released his hand and abruptly stood up.

"Er…Al?" the boy in the chair asked nervously, recovering the cotton ball and placing it over his wound again. "Are you feeling okay?"

Alfred looked quite ill for a moment, and then a weak smile graced his lips.

"You're a hero, Artie." he whispered faintly, and with this bold statement the boy promply passed out and fell on top of his poor friend, where their foreheads knocked together and effectively rendered Arthur unconscious as well.

**PAGE BREAK OF DOOM. LOOK UPON IT WITH RESPECT, FOR YOU ARE A MERE MORTAL. **

"I hate high school." muttered Arthur as he ripped down yet another picture of he and Alfred passed out in a compromising position from the wall where it was taped.

"True that, Bro." Alfred responded, as he shoved one into his pocket for his journal.

**A/N: I would love you for reviewing. :)**


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